


Tipping Point

by Cake_isnt_pie_sam



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drunk Dialing, Drunk confessions, Incest, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, drunk!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-09
Updated: 2014-09-09
Packaged: 2018-02-16 19:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2281734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cake_isnt_pie_sam/pseuds/Cake_isnt_pie_sam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean drunk dials Sam one night and tells him how he really feels. Dean comes home and doesn't remember a thing. But Sam does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tipping Point

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own SPN or the boys. Comments and feedback appreciated!

Sam woke up a little after one-thirty in the morning to a beeping noise coming from his phone. He squinted into the little light and saw he just received a voicemail. Apparently his ringer had been off.

_"Saaaaaaammy, hey. Hi. ‘s one in the mornin’, right? I think. Hey pal ya got the time? Mm, okay one twenty. ‘S late. You’re probably asleep I bet, but call me back mkay? Or I’ll..call again. Bartender took my damn keys. Say’s ‘m not okay to drive. Asshole…Anyway! Call me little brother. I’ll be…right here. On this stool. Without my keys…"_

And the message continued for another thirty seconds because apparently a drunk Dean doesn’t know how to hang up a phone. Despite the fact that Dean left to a bar while Sam was in the shower and he was still mad at him for that, he smiled to himself. That is, until he heard the rest of the message.

_"Hey there handsome, I’m Cindy."_

_"Hi Cindy. ‘m Dean. Dean …Edwards. Love the shirt. Can I buy ya a drink, Cindy?"_

Sam had heard enough. He hit the ‘end’ button and tossed his phone on his bed.

After a good twenty-five minutes and still nothing from Dean, Sam listened to the message again.

_"Can I buy ya a drink, Cindy?"_

_"No, but you can follow me this way…"_

Sam listened quietly as there was fumbling and suddenly the background music died out and he could definitely hear kissing. He assumed they were either in the bathroom or outside the bar. Sam’s gut twisted and his finger hovered over the ‘end’ button once again.

_"C’mon baby. Let’s go to my motel, Dean…"_

_"Yeah…No I can’t. I—Gotta go. You’re just…not who I’m looking for."_

Sam flinched at the slap he knew Dean totally deserved. Probably. Sam let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. Once again there’s bustling noises and Sam could only assume Dean got back in the bar. His brother’s heavy sigh came over the line.

_"One more. Then I’ll go home. Promise. Just…I need it. So fucked up. The whole thing."_

Sam snorted. Of course Dean fucked it up. He flat-out rejected the girl. After another few moments, the line went dead, finally hung up. He shook his head, anger ebbing away. Sighing, he went to dial Dean’s number. Before he could hit ‘call,’ his phone lit up with an incoming call. Dean.

"Dea—"

“ _Listen. Listen…okay. ‘M sorry. ‘M sorry I left. Just needed air, y’know?”_

”Yeah, Dean. Hey maybe you should just come back and—”

_“‘S not every day a guy realizes he’s got the hots for his brother and and—man. Can’t come home. Not tonight. I need…sleep. And air. And like…a burger or four. Gotta go. See ya in the morning, Sammy.”_

Before Sam could process any word of what just happened, Dean hung up (the right way this time) and Sam was left with a clicking line. _'Hots for his brother,’_ the words dug into Sam’s brain, burrowing and quickly every other thought faded away and any sleep he hoped to get would have to wait until after he spoke with Dean.

**

Dean stumbled through the door at seven-thirty the next morning, a heavy sigh following him inside. “Slept in the damned car. Asshole bartender kept my keys so I jimmied the lock. Almost scratched her. Woke up with my keys on my chest,” he mumbled, kicking off his boots and nearly falling face-first into his bed with a huff.

Sam just nodded, staring at his brother, waiting. Dean would have to talk about it eventually right?

"Sammy, we need the greasiest fucking burgers in this state. But right now I think I’m gonna throw up if I drive anymore," he mumbled into the bedspread.

Sam sighed. Apparently he forgot Dean Winchester was a master of burying things deep down and never thinking about them ever again.

"Dean," he started, scrubbing a hand over his face. Dean looked up at him, bloodshot eyes blinking slowly at him. "Dean you called me last night."

"Did not. Woulda remembered that. In other news, I feel like someone hit me in the face with a bb gun," he groaned, rubbing at a tiny red imprint on his right cheek. Sam would’ve smiled if his anxiety wasn’t so high. Okay so Dean probably didn’t deserve the slap he got, but if he didn’t fess up, Sam considered changing his mind again.

"Dean, you drunk-dialed me. Forgot to hang up. Then you went somewhere with a girl…" Sam trailed off.

"Ah ha! See that’s how I know you’re high. I wasn’t with any chicks last night, Sammy. I’d remember _that_.”

"Ah, well here," Sam said simply, putting his phone on speaker, replaying the message back for him. He watched as Dean’s mouth dropped open, surprise plastered across his features. Guilt. Anger.

At the end of the message, Dean looked away, jaw setting.

"That was before you called back," Sam added softly.

"Sam, I—I didn’t mean it, I was d—"

"No," and with that, Sam crossed the distance between them, hands on Dean’s face, eyebrows pinched together. "Don’t you tell me that. Don’t you tell me that you don’t fucking feel any of this."

And with Dean’s hitched breath and mouth opening to words he’d never speak, Sam’s mouth was on his, pressed roughly—bruising mouths and scraping teeth.

Sam could almost feel the tension break from Dean’s body, a physical shudder ripping through his being as his hands lift to wrap around Sam.  Desperate hands grab at Sam, pulling closer, _closer_.

 Although he didn’t realize it at first, once they finally pulled away from each other, holding one another at arm’s length, they shared more than red, bitten lips and lust-blown pupils. They shared tear-filled eyes and a smile that said that everything would be okay.


End file.
